The Bargain
by HarlequinR
Summary: Do you think any price would be too high for Lily if it meant protecting her son? Who is it that's really going to pay the price? Feedback welcome.
1. Chapter 1

''The prophesy complicates things, we are outside the circle and so cannot influence it. We could protect him from nearly anything else you might mention, but not fate. One way or another it will come to pass.'' The voice was coming from just past the edge of her peripheral vision, a whisper in the ear from leagues away. She shivers though the night is mild.

''But there must be something you can do, anything. Can you make it turn out in his favour then? The least gift that would let him survive, please.'' Nothing else she's heard of or researched came close to doing what she wanted. It struck her all of a sudden how desperate she was that trying to contact Them was an option. Movement, always where she couldn't catch more than the edge of a glimpse, like a shifting crowd. Voices she could never quite hear, whispering or laughing.

''We could give him the chance to make it happen in his favour. But what does it matter either way to us? Your kind are no friends of ours.'' It was coming from right in front of her now, and it took all her will to keep her eyes on the ground. The circles of salt and iron seemed so frail all of a sudden. Especially with her wand on the far side. ''Do you think we would even have bothered to answer you're call if you weren't what you are?''

''I will give you anything you name if you will do this thing.'' It felt like the world dropped away as she said it, the knots in her stomach turning over themselves in the sudden stillness.

''Anything is a very generous offer. Are you really sure that is what you are willing to give us?'' It sounded breathless, edged with excitement. The air felt like a storm in potential, chains ready to break.

''I am a mother,'' she says, the steel of her conviction rising, ''there is nothing worth so much that I would not offer it to protect my child.''

''Then let us say, in return for anything, we will give him our attention for all the years until he is an adult, and can make his own choices on where he wants to go from there.''

Lily stays where she is for long minutes till she is sure They are gone, removing any evidence of what she had been doing.

\- - - - - - - - - -

The wizard should not have tried to interfere with things that weren't theirs. Frosty ash and a tattered soul escaping into the night are all the proof needed of that.

Amidst a ruined house the shadows cast by the fire look crawl off the wall and look down at a crying child. It has moonlight skin and midnight eyes, sharp teeth smiling from a gaunt face. 'Anything' she said, as it tugs away an illusion with a sharp nail to reveal the lightning heraldry of its court on their new guest. A wailing creature of twigs and leaves disguised with glamour is left behind as it slips away, cats hissing and shrinking back at its passing.


	2. Chapter 2

The Dursleys were a perfectly ordinary family, thank you very much. Even their wastrel nephew had the good grace to keep his head down and not show any of his parent's, freakishness which made life easier for everyone.

On Harry's eleventh birthday a couple of bird watchers were surprised to see an owl flying in daylight. One of there would later swear blind it was carrying a letter which led to a rather long running joke in local twitching circles. The owl in question was just within sight of Privet Drive, flying low over a stretch of ancient forest, when whipsnap branches plucked it from the air. A minute or so later it flew out from the canopy, circling in a wobbly manner before heading back where it came from.

Professor McGonagall was pleasantly surprised that evening, she'd been quite worried about whether those people would make life difficult for young Harry coming to Hogwarts. They'd even asked about someone taking him to get his school supplies, which Albus was taking as proof of people changing for the better if you gave them the chance. She was not, however, sure that Hagrid was the best choice but some arguments weren't worth the hassle.

Griphook was not given to unease at the hands of wizards or witches, and certainly not when they were children. But something about that one seemed just a touch off...

Draco hadn't realised he was talking to Harry Potter at first, though he was sure he had covered it up well one he had. He'd invited him to stay over during the holidays which Father said was presumptuous, though both he and Mother seemed rather pleased.

Ollivander had the distinct feeling of history being made as he sold Harry Potter his wand. It was always satisfying to see, and the young man had been so very happy when it chose him. He'd be watching for great things indeed from that one.

Hagrid wiped away a small tear after dropping young Harry off at the top of Privet Drive. Such a nice young man and so curious, he'd had to stop himself going on and on about things when he was asked. Harry had even been very respectful of his position as Keeper of the Keys and Grounds, which was more than many were, and was so excited at being invited into Hogwarts. Lily and James would be so proud.

Harry felt a deep thrum of satisfaction as he stood with his toes on Hogwarts' boundary line. He'd snuck out in the dead of night under the light of a blue moon, leaving the illusion of himself that others had been seeing sleeping in the dorm. Time moved in mercurial tides where he had lived after all, and he had grown on the food of unseen lands. The unicorns had galloped alongside him as he ran barefoot and free through the Forbidden Forest while centaurs gathered in council to debate the meaning of wavering stars.

On the far side stood his kith and kin from the Court of the Lightning Tree, a fae maiden at the fore. Both stepped into an embrace as wards contorted in protest and warped around them before Harry whispered, ''you are welcome here.''


	3. Chapter 3

Laughter and excitement filled his hall. The fire-pit's smoke curling gently in the sweltering twilight, steam rising as water was splashed across the coals. Reveller's feasted on the hunter's bounty, drunk on the wine of dreams, dancing and singing as free as the storm.

He lounged upon a throne of oak and amber. Reclined to bask in the sound and sensation, heart beating in time with the pounding drums. To the right were his huscarls and hirdmen, his wordsmiths and wise. To the left were his guests from other courts, new seekers of favour and allies of old. Gifts and oaths sat before him from those seeking passage to the lands that were now open to him and his. Spears of hawthorn and fine flint worked with silver, sunlight bottled in graven quartz, pouches of sewn shadow holding gems of hope. His smile was a flash of pale light as the source of this fortune came full circle to stand before him.

By the turning of the sun and stars we would have been a boy of twelve, but they had less grasp where he had been than in other places. Who could say how long or short his memories ran? In form he was youth on the cusp of becoming a man, which may be as good a measure as any.

He danced with arms outstretched, leaping and spinning as he moved with grace and abandon. Wild hair lay plastered with the sweat that ran freely down his lean form. The light of glowing coals glinted from silver armbands and rings set with white stones that shone with starlight. None of them were a match for his eyes. A fever bright green that shamed emeralds, embarrassed the springtime leaves. Coming to a stop before the Thunder Bearer he swayed over like the moving shadows, sitting bonelessly at his feet with panting laughter.

Voices were low, music trailed off and even the embers were dull in the pit. All attention was focused on the two standing figures, potential heavy in the thick air.

''All is even now, all debts repaid and bargains honoured. I told you there would be a choice to be made. So which path will you tread?''

''I would seek a bargain, Born of the Storm.'' A smile forming across the youths face. ''I would have a name of my own.'' Whispers spread like waves around the hall, though neither of the two paid heed.

''And what do you think you can offer for such a thing?'' The elder replied with a breathless edge, the two seeming to come closer as all attention came to focus on this moment.

A wand was plucked from nowhere, held firm in one hand as a finger was brought to the tip. ''I offer this,'' he gently spoke, before pulling with all his might. Light and fire erupted as a shard of immortality was drawn, roaring, out of base matter. As it resolving into an echo of the feather that had contained it he held it out before him.

''Agreed.''

Things were not right at Hogwarts, though little could be done to find the source. Those with the skill could feel the magic of the place wreath like an irritated animal, the Forbidden Forest both groaned with life and wallowed in shadows. The house elves skittered from place to place with a haunted look and the centaurs had withdrawn to their deepest territory. Most recently however, just that night in fact, a small device in Dumbledore's office suddenly stopped spinning.

Flying from his office, running with unknown vigour through the corridors, he pulled aside the curtains on Harry Potter's bed. The shell of glamour was half dissolved, crumbling to light and dreams. He was lost for a moment, looking between the illusion and the talisman in his hand. Harry Potter was dead.


	4. Chapter 4

It is in the nature of people to forget the dangers of the past. They become children's tales while ancient prohibitions are ignored or left as half remembered superstitions. Others have longer memory however, or perhaps less time has passed for them.

They remember the treachery of Myrddin and the Autumn War. The withering of the elves when they broke their oaths and the twisting of Fenris' get. Stories are still told of the Summer King, who fought the Four to a standstill and saved the last true forest. Dirges sung of when witches and wizards burned the wonder from the world and drove it from the minds of the mortal folk. Took places of power from the Others and bound them to the time between moments and the space between one thing and the next.

Lily Potter had offered them the keys to the gate, even if she hadn't realised it. Her son had invited them in with no threats made or bribes offered, full in the knowledge of what he did and what it meant. And once the pact had been fulfilled they gave him the freest choice to decide the path he'd walk. So he had chosen, and bargained well. The fine thread of Morrígu's bloodline strengthening as his strand in the tapestry of fate was frayed apart and renewed.

\- - - - - - - - - -

The forest wasn't right these days, he didn't need the centaurs telling him to know that. Things moving about where you couldn't see them proper, voices from some place or other shifting round the place. And now with young Harry missing, well, not good at all. Still, Dumbeldore would see it right. Him out checking the grounds for signs of comings or goings and the professors organised checking inside, lad was bound to show up soon enough.

Hagrid was just leaving the forests edge, and thankful for it, when he heard the snap of of dried twigs behind him. Swinging round he let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, ''oh lad, the scare you gave me.'' Harry was a bit dishevelled, bit cold looking but non the worse for wear. ''Let's get you back inside. Folk's goin' to be happy to see you and no mistake.''

''Sorry Hagrid,'' the boy said, looking up nervously. ''They're still going to let me back to the castle? After everything...''

''Oh no need to worry there, I'll be taking you right in there.'' And you're right to be looking sheepish by heck, he thought. Running off alone and into the forest no less, McGonagall's going to have you on detention till yer NEWTs have come and gone. Gathering up the boy's hand they started back as fast as they could.

\- - - - - - - - - -

They were just at the threshold of the entrance hall when Hagrid caught sight of Professor Snape rushing towards them. ''Ere professor, found 'im. No 'arm done far as I can tell.'' They were just stepping inside as Snape saw them, looking pale and panicked, ''No! Don't let it in!''

''What are ye on about? It's Harry Potter.'' Hagrid called, ''I found him out by the forest,'' he added, raising up the hand he was holding and looking down to his side. He was stunned silent for a moment at what he saw.

''Thank you for letting me in Hagrid.''


	5. Chapter 5

He'd shed another measure of mortality along with his name that night. There was something about him now that seemed to subtly distress the eye and slip from from the mind's grasp, screamed 'other' to the spirit and 'stranger' to the soul. It might not have helped that he looked how old he was and not his age. That the ends of his hair trailed away into shadowy smoke or his eyes cast back more light than reflection explained.

A fiery lash cracked where a moment before he had stood, smiling up at Hagrid. Flares of unwholesome light illuminated his leap, dancing between spells to rush the wizard off his feet. The fall to the floor turned into a somersault towards the great hall, disappearing into the shadows of flickering candlelight to the sound of howling argument and protest behind him.

In stillness he was a fragment of eternity, in motion a blazing arc branching along all routes. House elves scattered in panicked distress, portraits woke in a trail of confusion, teachers gathered in furious conclave. There were so many places he might be heading and not nearly enough of them to guard them all when the wards were as good as like gossamer veils.

''Angry shouts and pleading desperation filled the final chamber. Nothing was there, it was empty, a mirror to distract him set up as if something special. He flew around the room, scouring it for any trace of is prize. Wait...A diversion, that must be it, a ruse to reveal his presence while the stone remained hidden elsewhere. ''Out, now. We'll have it soon.''

"The creature, all this damage could be blamed on it. He'd caught sight and followed it, making sure it couldn't get the item being guarded. Then they could formulate a new plan, find the true hiding place. So little time though, his master needed it now, before his body broke down past the saving point. ''Soon, soon, soon...'' he mumbled to himself, clutching a trembling arm tight to his chest.

"If either had looked back they would have seen another figure in the reflection. It came up to press its face against the surface, checking the coast was clear before pushing through and stepping into the room. Turning round he faced the empty reflection, teasing away the empowering film of glamour.

"Passing by Hagrid's hut he flicked out a red stone that had been caught in the weave, never bothering a backwards glance at where it landed.


	6. Chapter 6

In autumn, when everything began, no one had noticed. In winter, when chaos broke out, no one had cared. Now it was spring, and no one had any idea what to do about it.

Hogwart's grounds were widespread, closer to wilderness than parkland. The Forbidden Forest had always been the wildest part but still clear in its boundries, pinned between the mountains to the north and the outermost wards and walls to the east and west. That was in the past.

As the year had drawn to a close the Dark Forest had lived up to its name, seeming to brood over the bordering lands. Throughout the storms of winter thunderous winds brought low groans and creaks from the gnarled trees, a seeming of caged restlessness in place of more common hunched defiance. Now spring arrived with the promise of renewal and growth. Promises being quickly fulfilled.

Unchecked vitality had risen, a wild virility fueling its spread into the surrounding land, each morning revealing a fraction more ground claimed back. Strange charms and fetishes began to appear to those that looked deeper in. Woven branches, carved stones, bells and chimes on the edge of hearing. The boundary walls had started to become tumbledown and overgrown by pressing growth, the whomping willow aggressively lashing as the new growth drew upon it. Hagrid had eventually moved into the castle as shadowy boughs started to close upon his hut.

Pausing mid stride to assure it remained unseen the acromantula crept tentatively down the oak's scarred trunk. It was too big to be truly stealthy but more and more of the year's young disappeared while hunting and hunger drove ever older parts of the colony to stir. Prey flourished but were faster or too wary for the elder, only luck had given it this chance. A wood troll calf crouched beneath it, nestled in a hollow between the roots. The calling of the herd had it start to lumber away, desperate hunger propelling the spider's leap.

Midway through the air a javelin struck, piercing it deeply and sending it to a jarring crash. As it tried to stand and find its attacker a second strike ended its suffering. The calf was long gone, its cries receding into the deep woods.

From the other side of the clearing a trio emerged, hunters ill taken with poaching on their lands. The spiders were intruders from afar, to be driven away or burned out. The Court of the Lightning Tree tolerated no trespass.

Blindness disturbed the centaurs. The Others left no mark in fate's weave, only the ripples of their passing could be tracked. Cycles disported, the paths to prophetic ends branching as They returned to the world.

Long councils were held. Messengers sent out to other herds to gather wisdom, spread warning. Did they treat with those that returned or side with mortal men? Act at all or stand apart? Without sight there was no consensus, no path to follow.

It was worse when visitors arrived. They obeyed every guest-rule, brought gifts that could not be turned aside. Words danced when they spoke, yet they never lied. The young heard promises without price, the eldest saw labyrinths without end.


End file.
